Darkened Faerie Tale
by Lucinda
Summary: Dawn wishes Amy and Willow away to the Labyrinth.
1. prologue and part 1

author: Lucinda

main characters: Willow Rosenberg, Amy Madison, Jareth the Goblin King

rating: pg 13

disclaimer: I own nobody from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Labyrinth

distribution: Bite me please, WLS, nha, Twisting the Hellmouth, Paula anyone else please ask first

notes: AU season 6

prologue

Dawn rubbed at her cast, her eyes glittering with fury. This was all because of Willow. No, not quite, Amy had helped. Not with the car wreck, but with getting Willow into the state of mind that had created it. So, her broken arm was all the fault of Willow and Amy. She was quite certain that this was horrible, incredibly unfair, and her arm hurt. What made it worse was that this sort of thing could happen again.

She definitely didn't want anything like this to occur again. Ever. But how could she stop it? She couldn't make it so they would never drive again, couldn't even prevent them from working magic or seeing that despicable Rack. How could she prevent something like this from happening again when there was nothing that she could do?

Dawn sighed, flipping through the channels on the television. Not only did her arm hurt, there was nothing that she wanted to watch. Suddenly, a channel caught her attention. Going back, she smiled at the Henson puppets, and realized that it was the movie Labyrinth. If only she could wish Willow and Amy away. Wait a minute... if Dracula was real, and Hansel and Gretel had been real, maybe this was real? Maybe she could wish them away to the Goblin Kingdom. Where they could never cause problems for her again.

She paused for a moment, considering. Did she really want to do this? Could she banish them away forever? Her arm throbbed again. Yes, she could.

"I wish the Goblins would take Amy and Willow away. Right now," Her voice didn't even tremble, although a tear slid down her face, one of pain, rage, and a sickening sense of betrayal.

She felt the wind more inside than on her skin, dancing and twirling its way through the room, leaving a fine dusting of pale glitter and a single pale feather that slowly drifted down onto the floor at her feet. There was no sudden storm, no dramatic appearance of someone that looked like David Bowie. Just the wind, the glitter, and the feather. And the certain knowledge that she had really done it, really wished them gone.

Her hand felt cold as she reached down, lifting the feather carefully. It shimmered, almost iridescent and gleaming. The feather was not the sort of thing that belonged in a mundane living room, the place where people did homework and watched television. Carefully, she took the feather to her room, and closed it into a box, along with a few dried roses. Closing the box, Dawn decided that she didn't want to think anymore about this.

end prologue...

Willow had been unprepared for the whirlwind that appeared in her bedroom, practically glowing with magic, sucking in both her and Amy. It had felt like she was tested, poked and tugged at, or perhaps that had just been the forces of the wind. But the mystical wind that had seized them faded, dropping them in what looked like an open courtyard, half sprawled over pale brown bricks, the sky an odd orangish color. Definitely not in Sunnydale anymore...

Amy had been making a little whimpering noise in the back of her throat, her eyes wide and rimmed with pale, rolling as she tried to look around at everything, scrabbling to a semi crouched position. Her fingers had clawed over the bricks, causing a dry scraping noise that sent chills up their backs.

Willow remained where she was, part of her mind trying to determine if anything had been broken by the sudden landing. Everything felt bruised, inside and out. The whole place felt... different, off balance from everything that she knew. The sky was the wrong color, the air smelled different, and she could feel magic humming in the environment. Even the magic felt different, not the same shadowed and twisted magic that she was used to. This magic felt somehow older, and less... well, less tamed, almost wild. She was afraid to try to tap it.

"It seems that the two of you will be staying for a while. Welcome to my Labyrinth. I hope you're ready to try to find the middle." The voice sounded like the wind and thunder and a man's voice all rolled into one, powerful and inhuman, almost bored.

"umm... Labyrinth? What happens to us if we go into it?" Willow felt like frowning, certain the idea sounded familiar, trying to remember from where.

Amy was spinning around, trying to spot the source of the voice. Her voice had an almost shrill edge to it, wild with fear and confusion. "What happens to us in the Labyrinth? It doesn't feel safe."

The voice spoke again, sounding amused. "It isn't safe. Perhaps you'll die inside, perhaps you won't. If you make it to the castle, I'll give you new lives. If you don't make it... the only way out of my kingdom is from the castle."

Willow's body went tense, and she slowly raised herself from her prone sprawl to a wobbly kneeling position. "So, we have the option of staying in this courtyard until we starve, or facing uncertain surroundings and unknown perils inside the labyrinth to win the possibility of maybe going home or maybe staying here forever. Is there an option number three?"

"Not for you." The voice definitely sounded mocking.

Amy made a little squeaking noise, spinning around, her breathing fast and shallow. "I don't want to be here. This is a bad place."

Willow tried to reach out, to offer a bit of comfort to Amy. Granted, she couldn't offer much more than the fact that neither of them were alone in this. But Amy bolted, running into a corridor that moved in the same direction as their shadows, fleeing from the voice. Her heart pounding, Willow turned to look at the speaker.

He stood there, dressed in silver grey and white, the fabrics looking almost but not quite like silk and velvet, clinging to his lean body. He was shaped like a human, but the planes of his face were a bit off, his cheekbones too sharp, his eyes a bit too large and widely spaced to be human, and one was a pale blue, while the other was dark as shadow, as dark as the magic that she'd felt at Rack's place. He wasn't human, wasn't mortal, and that showed in his posture, in the casual arrogance that radiated from him. The fact that he was juggling what looked to be soap bubbles or crystal spheres in one hand and radiated power on a scale unlike anything but Glory screamed 'not human' and his eyes, his smile said 'predator'.

"Who... what are you?" The whisper emerged from her lips before she could stop herself.

"I am Jareth, the Goblin King. You might want to try calling me 'Your Majesty'. After all, you and your friend are probably going to become my newest subjects." With a mocking smile, he tossed one sphere to the ground, producing a flurry of sparkles, shimmering lights, and a noise almost like distant trumpets.

When her vision cleared, she was standing in a grassy courtyard, neatly clipped hedges on all sides, forming what looked to be a classical garden maze. She had the feeling that even if it was as simple to navigate as a normal hedge maze, this would be just the barest beginnings of her travels.

end part 1.

Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	2. parts 2 and 3

Willow looked around, trying to figure out the best direction to go. Of course, it would help if she could figure out if she actually wanted to go somewhere in particular, like the Castle in the center. Jareth had said a new life, not that he'd send them home. She had an unsettling suspicion that he had a wicked sense of humor, and that the joke was on her and Amy.

To the right, she could see the Castle, a mass of towers and walls and possibly a few arches that seemed to defy all known laws of architecture and some of the laws of gravity and physics. It was an impossible castle for an inhuman king of a magical kingdom. That actually made the sort of sense that didn't bear close inspection. She saw nothing to give her any idea where the brick courtyard had been, or still was. She had the impression that she had been moved, not the bricks. With a sigh, Willow began walking along the wall of hedges, certain that there would be a gap to let her into this hedge maze. Then, if she could get out if it…

There a faint noise, like something with soft footsteps following her.

Willow spun around, seeing nothing behind her, but the edges of the shrub were shaking a bit, as if something had brushed against them. Maybe it wasn't in sight, but that was a sign that either something WAS following her…. Or else the hedges could wiggle. Looking a bit closer at the hedge, Willow noticed the tiny thorns that almost covered the branches. She wouldn't have wanted to stumble and fall against them, but the idea of them moving on their own… of the hedge getting her… She shivered, and started walking again.

The air felt chilly, and thin breezes seemed to tug at her clothing, slipping up sleeves, down her collar to raise goose bumps over her body. Her fingers and toes felt numb, as did her ears. She almost felt like the air was trying to take her clothing away, to leave her shivering and exposed. But… air couldn't do that, could it?

The leaves of the thorny hedge kept rustling, only it sounded almost like they were whispering softly, menacing whispers in some other language. Other voices, higher pitched and a few that were very low, sounded like they were laughing at her, giggling and snickering somewhere out of sight, but close enough that they could watch her. Watch the poor human girl wander around the maze, hopelessly lost and cold…

Hugging her arms around herself, Willow tried to shake herself out of it. She wasn't some helpless teenage loser anymore. She was in college, had helped save the world… brought Buffy back from the dead. She shouldn't be freaked out by whispering hedges and unseen people or things laughing at her. Really. And any minute now, her mental pep talk would start working… any time now.

The thorny hedge continued, twisting and turning. Finally, it opened out into an area that had been paved in dark grey slabs of stone, with two solid walls of similar stones and a third with a large uneven doorway, with a huge, rough door that somehow reminded Willow of old myths, about the houses that man eating ogres lived inside. She tried to smile, certain that the effort was a failure. More laughter rang out from behind her, from the tops of the walls, echoing on the stone.

A quick glance caught just the barest glimpse of ducking creatures, with large ears and long noses, wearing funny caps as they ducked out of sight. Well, he had said that he was the Goblin King, didn't that sort of mean that he had… goblins? Willow swallowed nervously, wishing that she hadn't read so many frightening stories about goblins and monsters, wishing she didn't have such an active imagination.

Her hand shook as she prepared to knock on the door.

In his throne room, Jareth smiled, watching the little red head. Such an easily frightened girl, this Willow. Maybe he'd have to keep her around. Assuming that she survived the Goblin Bakery… He released the shimmering crystal that held her image, plucking another from the air where they spun and sparkled. Now to check on the other one, hadn't her name been Amy?

End part 2.

Amy could feel the panic rising inside of her. The whole place felt wrong… drenched in magic, but not the right sort of power. This didn't feel like home, not at all like the sort of thing you should be able to tap and use. This was like a downpour, like an undertow. It was there, and powerful, and if she tried to touch it things could be very dangerous. Power flowed through everything, a dizzying hum of magic and illusion.

Then HE'd spoken. He had been power, almost too blinding to look at. Power that was old and wild and had never been human. Would never be human. He'd said that he'd brought them here, to his labyrinth. A labyrinth was just a fancy word for a maze… no no no she was human again, not a rat!

Amy bolted, running away from the Goblin King. She could feel her pulse hammering, the air burning cold in her lungs as she sped over bricks, turns and corridors quickly serving to confuse her. She could see the sullen sun, but… Could it move? Did it even rise and set like the one over Earth?

She barely managed to skid to a halt as she realized that she'd just turned down a dead end passage. The bricks were a warm yellow tone, almost like sand at the beach. The air wasn't cold any more either, having somehow grown warm, almost hot. It smelled like sweat, and baked sand, and something else, almost like decay, teased in the distance.

She found herself edging sideways, until her back was pressed against the warm bricks. Now was not the time to panic. She was alone in a maze in some far away magic land….. Nobody but Willow and whoever had made the wish knew where they were. She was a witch… who'd spent the last three years as a rat.

Oh, who did she think she was kidding? Now was the perfect time to panic.

She closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing, to slow or halt the trickle of hot tears that slipped over her face. How had this happened to her? She was human again, had found a way to make everything feel good and right and wonderful again… This wasn't supposed to be happening! She was supposed to be able to make everything better, make her life good again - no, better than before. Instead, she was… here. In a giant maze, the amusement of some inhuman thing that wore a shape almost like a man.

It was terrible. She was trapped all over again, but not in the cage that Willow had brought to take care of her rat-self because Sunnydale was scary, no… She felt almost like her mind was spinning, and twisting. Now was not the time to have a nervous breakdown, not the time to cry so hard that she couldn't see or hear anything.

Amy froze, her whole body wanting to tremble. She'd just heard a noise, like something scraping over brick. There it was again… and sort of a loud whufffing noise, like something very big breathing. It was just on the other side of this wall, whatever 'it' was. Her mind turned to old stories, ancient tales about mazes with terrible monsters trapped inside. The Minotaur of Crete, that was given a sacrifice of people from another Greek city every seven years, to devour them… What city had that been? Sparta? Marathon, no… Athens! Wait, she was in the maze. What if… She had to get out of here!

She started moving again, not rapid panicked flight, but mouse soft creeping… something that she'd had a lot of practice in over the past few years. Mouse soft, rat soft… the difference was so tiny… She bit back a giggle or sob, she wasn't quite certain which. What had Rack done to her? He'd been able to make everything feel so good, but she needed to think now, and that seemed so hard right now. So hard to focus… The sound of another scrape made focusing suddenly easier. She could taste fear in her mouth… it was remarkably like bile.

Carefully, Amy crept through brick corridors, hardly daring to breathe. She was afraid, uncertain what lived in here, uncertain what it would eat, uncertain how her life had become the wreck that it was. Images of things danced in her head, faerie tales and legends, movies and demons…

Looking down a side corridor, she saw what at first she thought were sticks… but they were too straight, too smooth. The ends were too knobbly… a scattering of bones lay over the bricks, bleaching in the sun. Leathery bits still clung to a few of them… In her fear, she couldn't tell if they were real or illusion. She bit back a scream, her body bolting again, running frantically in an effort to get away. Anywhere.

She was aware of something large and dark with big eyes and hot breath before he came to a door, flinging it open, darting through in her fear. She didn't look back, didn't see the strange creature with the long tail and long yellow fur. Amy didn't see the dark eyes full of intelligence and worry.

"Girl run fast." With a heavy sigh, the creature known as Ludo sat down.

Amy ran through what looked almost like a park, the shade of the trees almost painfully cool on her skin. She was sweating, and shaking… was it from the brick maze, her flight, or was it something else? Was it from the desire… the need to go back to Rack? He was back in Sunnydale, a whole separate world from where she was now… Shaking her head, she leaned against a tree, gasping for breath.

Stupid of her to let herself grow so dependant. Stupid to allow someone else that much power over her… Now she was far away, and would have to get over Rack and his… whatever. Cold Turkey… she suppressed a tiny giggle. There was nothing funny about her situation. Nothing funny about her involvement with Rack. She'd been better off in her mother's body…

Well, that was one thing that this trip had got her. If she ever made it back to Sunnydale, she would never go to Rack again, never seek that sort of magical high. If was the question.

But how could she help her chances of going home? How could she… wait, he'd said the only way home was from the castle in the center. If she could reach the castle, then everything would be better. All she had to do was find her way through the largest maze in creation…

End part 3.


	3. parts 4 to 6

Willow pushed opened the door, her heart beating so fast and so loud in her ears that she was surprised it didn't attract attention. Heat poured out, the room was illuminated only by flames flickering in vast fireplaces and under bubbling cauldrons. There were scents herbs, and meat, and bread, and the sounds of fire popping, and cauldrons of something liquid bubbling, and scurrying noses, some thin and tiny, as if from rat feet, others bigger, more substantial. She almost wished that she could turn around and go home… But she had no idea how to get 'home' from here.  
  
She was in a huge, terrible looking kitchen. Plates and pots crusted with grime towered in stacks near tubs of water, soot covered the walls and the bottoms of pots. Smoke made it even harder to see, and made her eyes water and her throat itch. Overhead, there were carcasses hanging, raw meat and exposed bones making the place look even more dreadful. She couldn't tell what the meat had come from, and wasn't entirely certain that she wanted to know. There had to be a way out of here…  
  
Willow wandered through a maze of ovens, burning cauldrons, and towering dishes. Then, one of the goblins spotted her. Willow heard a clattering sound as a heavy looking tray was dropped by a short figure with dark skin, huge ears and droopy skin, a figure that had little beady eyes that hissed, showing sharp looking teeth. "Intruder! Intruder in the kitchen!"  
  
With outraged shouts, goblins grabbed cleavers, fire pokers, and barbeque forks, charging towards Willow. They looked furious that anyone would dare intrude upon their domain, and quite willing to chop her into little bits as a punishment. None of them were even her height, but they still managed to look entirely menacing, terrifying in fact.  
  
Willow screamed, turning and running through a gap in the cauldrons, hoping that she could find a way out, hoping that she was faster than the goblins, that she didn't run into more of them in these kitchens. She ran, dodging piles of dishes, weaving though corridors, almost running over yet another goblin that howled and joined into the pursuit. She was panicking, and wondered if she'd even be able to get out alive.  
  
A shape of brightness shone ahead, and Willow felt a spark of hope. A doorway… if she could just reach it… She charged through, hoping that she would end up somewhere that wasn't filled with goblins. Almost anywhere would be better…  
  
Willow found herself in a long corridor, paved and walled in gray stone. It seemed to go on forever in either direction. It was empty, with occasional little tufts of yellowed grass growing up between the stones, or tall stalks of weeds with rattling seed pods or dried flowers. She leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. For the moment, this would have to do. Nobody was chasing… wait, the doorway had been… Willow spun around, expecting goblins with cleavers and pokers to be pouring out behind her.  
  
But she saw only a stone wall. There was no doorway, no sign that there had ever been anything but gray stones piled on top of each other.  
  
"Now that was freaky. Okay, you can't even backtrack because things keep changing… I don't know if that's good or bad." She began walking down the corridor, picking the direction that put the sun at her back instead of in her eyes. That was the only difference that she could see in either direction.  
  
Willow didn't notice the small worm that peeked out from a crack in the rocks, watching her go past. "Not another poor lost girl. 'Onestly, I really don't know where he finds them all."  
  
The corridor seemed almost to ripple, extending longer in front of her. Willow sighed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "This is ridiculous. Even a magic maze can't just… well, maybe it can. There has to be a better way…"  
  
She leaned against the wall, trying to figure out some way to keep from walking forever. Maybe if she trailed her hand along the wall, she would discover if there were any openings that were covered by illusion? It wasn't a very good plan, but it was the best that she had right now. Willow started walking again, her fingers trailing lightly over the rough stone.  
  
end part 4.  
  
  
  
Amy could feel herself relaxing a bit, the lush green grass soft beneath her feet. Shadows and the orangish sunlight dappled over the area in broken patterns, and graceful trees lined the courtyard. She could hear the sleepy drone of bees, and unfamiliar birdsong from the tree tops. She smiled, walking among the trees, looking at the unexpected beauty of this area. There was even a tiny stream burbling through the grass. She wandered over, kneeling beside it. Her throat was parched after her experience in the hot sand colored maze.  
  
The water was as clear as glass, running over stones and pebbles. Amy cupped her hand, lowering it towards the water. It was as cold as ice, and she lost the feeling in her hand almost immediately. It wasn't until after she'd swallowed a mouthful of the bitterly cold water that she noticed the red lines of color now flowing past her. Her eyes grew wider as she saw a crimson droplet fall towards the water, creating yet another scarlet ribbon of color.  
  
She turned her hand over, still not feeling anything. Slashes covered the back of her hand, and blood welled up, red and thick. Horrified, she looked back at the rocks that the water sang over, this time noticing all the sharp edges that covered them. It was with a great deal of caution that she washed the back of her hand until it stopped bleeding. She ripped the sleeve of her shirt, making a crude bandage for her hand out of it.  
  
That was quite enough of that little stream. Lurching awkwardly to her feet, Amy resumed walking, feeling most unsettled by the whole incident. She'd thought the stream was safe, but she should have known better. Nothing here was safe. She began shivering, feeling suddenly cold, the numbness of her hand slowly spreading upwards. She kept walking.  
  
The trees changed, going from broad leaved shade trees to a grove of fruit trees. But the trees were oddly confused, bearing flowers, ripening fruit and fruit that looked so gloriously perfect that it made her mouth water to look at them. Some held fruit that she could recognize – apples, oranges, cherries, and peaches. Others held things that she couldn't identify, tiny clustered berries that looked almost like yellow green raspberries, things that looked like brown furry ovals, things that looked like melon sized globes of blue… The mingled scents of so many different fruits were rich and almost intoxicating.   
  
She could see the bees now, green and yellow striped creatures as large as hummingbirds. They had wicked looking stingers, and moved from flower to flower slowly. One tree held a massive hive, the oddly colored bees flying in and out in an almost orderly fashion.  
  
The fruit smelled and looked so tempting… Would it hurt if she ate one? Would it do something dreadful to her? How much of a choice did she have? She'd been brought to this labyrinth, left to find her way to the middle or not. Nothing had been given to help her on her way, was she expected to starve? The idea didn't appeal very much to her.  
  
Her hand reached out, plucking an apple from one of the trees. The sleeve-bandage looked so harsh, so out of place next to the fruit laden branches… A single piece of fruit couldn't hurt that much, and she felt so hungry. She took a bite, the apple crisp and tart, juice dripping from her chin.  
  
She didn't notice the flurry of wings as every bird that had been perched in the apple tree took to the air. Amy paid no attention to the harsh calls of the birds, or the angry hum of the bees that the birds had disturbed. She didn't notice that the few birds that had been stung by the bees fell to the ground, no longer moving.  
  
Gazing into the crystal, Jareth smiled. "Yes, eat the goblin fruit, Amy. You can't stop the inevitable. Much too late now, even if you wanted to try."  
  
He released the crystal holding the images of Amy back into the small cluster circling near his hand. "Hmm… I wonder if anyone's even missed the pair of them."  
  
With a gesture, silver sparkles flew together, swirling and glowing until they had formed what almost appeared to be a silvery white mirror in a slightly ovaled shape, hovering in front of Jareth and his throne.  
  
"Show me Sunnydale."  
  
End part 5.  
  
The silver disk flared for a moment before darkening, showing a night time scene. At a casual glance, it looked like a normal two story house in a normal town, with concrete sidewalks, and yards with careful flowerbeds and the occasional lawn ornament. The stars glimmered overhead, and the moon was partly obscured by the scattered clouds. A pale haired figure in a flowing black leather coat stalked down the street, making his way towards the house. His blue eyes looked cold, and he held a cigarette in one hand.  
  
Without pausing, he opened the door, stalking into the house, and into a bedroom. Stuffed animals and lace edged pillows lined a bed with a rumpled pastel comforter, and a computer sat on a desk beside a bookshelf stuffed full of the most interesting assortment of literature. Cheap romance novels, science fiction, and historicals were stacked two deep on the top shelf, the second holding volumes on various plants, on historical cultures and Wicca beliefs mixed in with volumes of scientific theory about computers, electronics, psychology and medicine. On the bottom were texts on demons and mystical rituals, artifacts and borrowed Watcher's chronicles. There was also a near pristine looking copy of what was labeled 'the Slayer's Handbook'. The balcony doors stood open, and papers had been scattered onto the floor, as if from a gust of wind. A fine layer of a silvery glittering dust coated the room.  
  
"Bloody hell, how did this happen?" The man's words held an angry edge to them, and he actually growled as he looked around again. He glared at the long mirror standing beside the changing screen, the mirror reflecting the room, but not the blond intruder.  
  
He pressed a finger on the silvery dust, the tip shimmering as he lifted it. Carefully, he licked the shimmering powder away, growling as he did. His eyes snapped open, golden, his teeth changed to sharp fangs, his features more feral, menacing. "Goblin magic. Damn."  
  
He swept back out of the house, slamming the door behind him, a gesture more of anger than any concern for the security of the house. He made his way unmolested by the various demons or vampires to an apartment complex, going to a particular apartment that had a rather aged and weathered looking tan car in the front. His fist contacted the door harshly, almost threatening to break the wood.  
  
"Just a moment!" The querulous voice had a decidedly British accent, something rather out of place in a small California town. There was a slight ratting, and then the door cracked open a few inches. "Ahh, Spike. Kindly stop trying to break my door so that I may unlock it."  
  
After the shortest amount of time that the older man could open the door, the blond stalked inside. "There's a problem at the witch's house."  
  
"Well, yes, I was wondering why she didn't arrive for the research tonight. Was there some sort of… personality clash?" Rupert Giles adjusted his glasses, as if uncomfortable with his visitor.  
  
"Nothing that simple. Tell me, Watcher. How much do you know about Goblins?" The blond had resumed his human features, but he was still clearly angry.  
  
"Goblins! Goodness, that's not the sort of question I normally get." He walked into the kitchen, returning with a cup of tea. "Do you mean the scattered goblins, or… those of the Kingdom? Spike, this is not the sort of thing to be taken lightly."  
  
"I'm not taking any of this lightly." Spike started pacing, one hand playing with his lighter. "I went to check on the witches. Starting to think they've got a problem too big to just hope it'll go away if you give them the cold shoulder. Red's house was empty, her balcony doors wide open, like a big gust of wind. And the whole blasted bedroom was coated in glittering silver dust. What the bloody hell does that sound like to you, Watcher?"  
  
"Damn. Someone made the bloody wish. Who would be foolish enough to wish anything after everything that we've been through? After having Anya around for the past three years?" Giles sipped at his tea, frowning.  
  
"I have a guess. Dawn. She's young, damn angry at the pair of missing witches, and has her sister's tendency to ignore the advice of everyone else." Spike scowled, the expression far more intimidating on him than on Giles.  
  
"Logical." Giles almost looked like he'd taken a sip of pure lemon juice instead of tea. "I suppose we shall have to go ask her about it."  
  
"Right, just waltz in, say 'Buffy, we think your sister wished the trouble making witches into a magic kingdom'? I'm sure that'd go over well." Sarcasm laced Spike's words.  
  
"Close, but not quite. Come with me, if there are goblins about, I'd rather not be out alone." Giles put down his tea, heading towards the door.  
  
They went to another house, and entered through the front door much more calmly than the last home entries of the evening. "Dawn? Are you in here?"  
  
A short blond in a pair of worn jeans and a little shirt came into view, holding a cup of cocoa in her hand. "Giles and… Spike. Dawn's in the living room, moping over her cast. What's the what?"  
  
Giles shook his head, moving towards the living room. "This is an urgent and serious matter, Buffy. I'm hoping that Spike was mistaken in his analysis…"  
  
Buffy looked at Spike, her nose slightly wrinkled in confusion. "In English?"  
  
"I think Dawn made a wish and got Red and Mouse-girl kidnapped." Spike's words were still unhappy, but the growl was absent.  
  
Buffy inhaled, her gaze flickering towards the other room, where her sister was curled in a chair. "She wouldn't… would she? Dawn's heard Anya's stories, she knows what sort of trouble that word can bring. You have to be wrong."  
  
Spike frowned, walking towards the end table. He ran his finger over it, scowling at it. Holding it into the light, the dust shimmered and almost glowed silver. "Does it look like I'm doing this for a lark?"  
  
"That's… since when does household dust look like silver?" Buffy's voice was soft, and she looked at the dust, her finger almost but not quite touching it.  
  
"Real dust doesn't. It's a sign that the Goblin Kingdom had touched this place." Spike's voice was flat, almost hard.  
  
"Of course I meant it! They've caused nothing but trouble! I'm glad that they're not here any more." Dawn's voice carried loud, and she bolted from the room, her footsteps thudding up the stairs until a door slammed from above.  
  
"Okay, maybe she would." Buffy sighed, leaning against a wall. "Can we fix it?"  
  
"Unlikely." Giles sounded weary all of a sudden. "I'll have to check a few books, but… the most likely options for retrieving people depend on the person who made the wish wanting them back."  
  
"This is bad, isn't it?" Buffy's voice was soft, and a single tear glimmered in her lashes.  
  
"Yes." The single word emerged at almost the same moment from both Spike and Giles.  
  
Buffy looked from one to the other, her eyes wide. "You're agreeing. Now I know things are bad."  
  
End part 6. 


	4. parts 7 and 8

Willow's fingers trailed over the stone, starting to feel raw and sore, as if her skin was being worn away by the stone. Maybe it was, after all, her fingertips weren't nearly as hard as stone, and the law of erosion… Her fingers fell against empty air, and she turned, discovering a narrow second corridor. She turned, walking along it for a ways before it turned sharply to the right. The passage was barely wider than she was, and Willow was almost surprised that her hands weren't brushing the walls as she walked.

The corridor wasn't quite clean. More weeds sprouted, thin and scraggly, the stalks yellowed or brown, most of them having the shriveled look of a plant that had long since died. Leaves had fallen to become spiky curled bits that crunched under her feet, ratting and scraping along the rough stones. Pebbles that must have crumbled from the blocks of stone or fallen from the mortar made the footing a bit uncertain, forcing Willow to move slowly or risk twisting her ankle. Long strips of something appeared to have been shredded along the walls, something pale, almost grayish.

Willow lifted a scrap, staring at the bit of shed snakeskin in her hand. There was a faintly discernable diamond pattern. While it didn't exactly match any type of snake that Willow could place, that sort of pattern was usually associated with some type of… rattlesnake. Rattlesnakes were poisonous. Was she trapped in a maze with poisonous snakes?

She started walking more carefully, wary of any larger collection of the weeds and fallen leaves, hesitant that they might be concealing some lethal snake. She tried to search her mind… were Rattlesnakes aggressive? It seemed harder to think about things like that, things that weren't magical… Hadn't some of those old Westerns that Xander's mom watched called people' meaner than a rattlesnake' as an insult? That would have to imply that rattlesnakes were mean, were aggressive. Then they would probably attack her if she found one, and it would try to bite her, and she'd swell up, and there would be pain and agony and muscle convulsions and she'd die, gasping for breath as she flopped around…

No, get a grip. It didn't work quite like that. Snake venom didn't kill that quickly. There would be a short period of time that she could use to get the venom out before it would be too late… Before she couldn't breathe and died. Or did rattlesnake venom affect the muscles, so that it would start her convulsing until her heart exploded? Or maybe it would just paralyze her, making her body stiff and unresponsive, causing her to just collapse and die of starvation and exposure? It all depended on which type of venom the snake had, and how strong the poison was. All snake venoms were not equal… she'd known this once, hadn't she? A science project on the snakes of California… But she couldn't remember.

Snakes hadn't seemed like a big concern lately. They'd spent the last few years worried about vampires and demons, and averting apocalypses and dealing with people getting killed… like Jesse, and Kendra and Buffy. She'd brought Buffy back from the dead, but instead of being happy, everyone seemed afraid and angry. Well, not Buffy, her once friend seemed harsh and cold, and if anything, she seemed to hate Willow now. Magic and research had given them all the answers they'd needed… find what it was, send Buffy to kill it or cast a spell, and everything's over.

And they wondered why she'd started looking for magical answers to everything… Didn't they see the pattern? Logically, if they used magic for so many things, why not for others? Especially when it was so simple… can't afford a new pair of sandals? Magic them back together when the strap breaks. Hair going all frizzy and someone used the last of the conditioner? Magic it smooth again… Where was the harm in that? Why not use her magic when she could? It was logical, not an addiction.

Wasn't it?

But none of that might matter now. She was in the Goblin Kingdom, and she really doubted that her biggest worry would be hair conditioner. Especially not if she ran into the snake that had been shedding all these scraps of snakeskin. If it was only one snake. She wasn't certain… she had a fuzzy memory that Rattlesnakes were territorial, but that didn't mean there couldn't be many of them, scattered through the maze. Maybe they had holes carved into the walls, living in the gaps between the stones…

There was a noise ahead, sort of a soft scraping noise. Willow slowed, almost unwilling to look around the corner. A shadow rose against the wall, something almost like a snake, but the shape subtly wrong, with huge fangs… The head was too big, almost like Madam Mimm as the striped snake in Disney's Sword in the Stone… She squeaked, skipping backwards, her foot slipping on some scattered stones. She fell backwards, the impact jarring her hip bones, her hands scraping on the paving.

"Hssss… Whooo goessss?" The voice was like the rattle of dry leaves, and entirely inhuman.

Her heart was thumping in her chest, horribly strong, almost painful. She scrabbled back, hearing the scrape of something against stone, behind her. She lurched to her feet, a quick glance behind revealing nothing more than dead weeds scraping the stone in the weak breeze. But ahead of her… That was not the breeze, was not weeds. There was something there, inhuman and hissing and probably venomous.

But if there were more, then would walking along the corridor back the way she came be any safer? Wasn't it just sheer good luck that she hadn't already bumped into a snake? Scales scraped on stone again, and before she could even think any more, she was moving. Going upwards, to the top of the wall, away from snakes or snake-goblin things on the ground, hopefully out of its reach.

She drew in a breath as she stood at the top of the wall, her stomach fluttering from fear. Her hands ached, scraped on the stones in her fall. Her butt hurt from hitting the hard stones. Her feet were stiff and sore from walking as much as she had.

"Ssssss…. I know someone wassss here…" The voice came again, and something slithered around the corner. It looked almost like a snake at first, but it had a head far rounder, with tiny dark eyes, and a long purple tongue that kept flicking out into the air. It was some sort of goblin serpent, a dark and frightful naga. Grey and purple scales formed a diamond pattern down it's back, and the part nearest the head was easily as big around as Willow's neck. How big was the creature? More importantly, how likely was it to find her?

Willow looked around, seeing the stone walls spreading before her, creating complicated patterns and mazes that extended into the distance. It looked like the whole place was a nest of mazes, with few scattered patches of trees, and a couple places that looked like groups of buildings. The castle rose from the mazes, somehow looming over everything else despite the fact that the numerous high towers should have made it look graceful and delicate. It didn't look delicate, it looked menacing and scary and impossible.

She knew that she wouldn't like this, but she turned, carefully hopping along walls moving towards the castle. It probably wouldn't work forever, but until then, why not take advantage of the fact that she could see?

End part 7.

In his castle, Jareth lounged on his throne, one leg flung over the arm of it as he leaned on the other side, chuckling at the images of the people in Sunnydale. "Very nice, it only took them four hours to figure out that their so called friends were missing. I'll have to bring that up if either of them make it to the center. And the child who sent them away isn't even sorry about it… wonderful."

A pair of goblins came into the room, carrying a crying infant between them. "Your majesty, we have the child from the Sutcliffe house."

"Good. Put her over there, with the other babies. Be sure to give her some milk to drink, we don't want any more puny goblins joining the kingdom." He glanced at the floating crystals, eyes searching out the young woman, barely more than a child, that had just wished away her infant. She had bruises over her body, and her eyes were far older than her face. "Always people wishing away their children, thinking that would solve all their troubles. Human can be such fools."

He waved the viewing plane away, his hand shattering the image, which fell to the ground as a scattering of flower petals. He looked back at the crystals, pulling forward the one holding the image of the girl called Amy. "Let's see what you're up to."

She lay in the grass of one of his gardens. Above her, a peach tree spread its branches, the goblin fruit hanging from the branches in all stages, from blossom to perfection. Tall grass nearly covered the girl, the bandage wrapped around her hand now sticky with fruit juice and blood. Her long brownish hair was spilling through the grass, picking up a paler tone, one that almost reminded him of tree bark.

Stretching, Amy sat up, a yawn spilling forth. She stood up, brushing the grass and leaves from her clothing, brushing against the grass with her hands. She picked a ripe peach, biting deeply into it, breakfasting on an assortment of the different fruits. She even plucked one of the blue melons, hollowing out a portion of it to use as a crude cup from the stream.

"No sense in going hungry, after all. And the water's good, if cold. Wouldn't something have happened otherwise?" She drank deeply, the water spilling over her, splashing at her face, her shoulders and hands. It didn't feel nearly so cold now.

Almost slowly, she began wandering again, headed towards the end of the garden. She had to get to the castle in the center, so that she could go home. It was very important to go home, back to a place where she understood the way things worked. Somewhere that she could get new clothing. A place that wasn't drowning in magic. The magic here was different, strange and wild, worked through everything, the walls, the grass, even the trees. She wondered if she would even be able to use it, hesitant from all the differences.

Well, there would only be one way to learn, right? She leaned against a wall, closing her eyes as she tried to reach the magic. It was slippery, wild and strong in her hands, and she whispered softly, trying to hold her focus. It seemed so much easier to think clearly now, and she wondered how long she had slept. "come on now, just a little magic, just to get something better to wear, something stronger, safer, not all torn and stained… come on now…"

Power washed over her, like a wave cresting, and she gasped, feeling like she was sinking, drowning. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, her wounded hand throbbing at the impact. Her eyes opened, one dark as shadow, the other wide and frightened and human. Finally, it ebbed away, and she could breathe again. Trembling, she stood up, looking at what she was now wearing.

Pants flowed over her legs, not too tight, but showing the shape of them. They were of some strange material that looked like tree bark and felt like leather. Her feet were now encased with boots of the same substance, but a bit darker and thicker. A pale shirt with loose sleeves and a wide neckline fell past her hips, and a belt and pouch were at her waist. She also had a green vest and hat on. It didn't look like normal clothing, it looked like something from a fairy tale.

She brushed her hand against the vest, wondering why it felt like leaves. "Cool."

With that delighted word, Amy continued, humming slightly off key as she entered the next maze. This one was made of hedges reaching eight feet in the air, covered with shimmering green leaves and tiny red berries that smelled of cinnamon and pine. Fallen needles lined the pathways, creating a soft cushion for her footsteps, and making this portion much less tiresome than her earlier travels. How long had she been here? How long would it be until she found the center, until she could go home?

As Amy kept walking, it never occurred to her that her new garments looked curiously similar to those worn by the goblins. She didn't stop to wonder why the water that had been so cold before her slumber felt only slightly cold now. It didn't cross her mind to wonder how she'd made any use of a magic that only hours before she wouldn't have dared touch.

Perhaps she'd never heard the stories that had said not to eat of the food in the lands of the Fae. Legends that spoke of those who ate being changed, never finding pleasure in mortal food again, or being trapped in the Fae lands forever. If Amy Madison had ever heard those stories, which had rather fallen out of fashion since the inventions of steam engines, and the use of electricity, perhaps she would have been more careful. But it was now too late to worry about what she had known before, or why she had ignored warnings.

Amy Madison had eaten of the Goblin Fruit, and had deliberately allowed her blood to fall on the Goblin Lands. Nothing would ever be the same for her again.

End part 8.


	5. parts 9 and 10

Willow was making her way along the tops of the walls of the snake holding maze. She kept glancing down, seeing the same scattered stones, dying weeds, and bits of snakeskin. That and the similarity of the walls was enough to tell her this was still the same lesser maze inside the great labyrinth. But she wasn't very surprised by that.

She hopped again, the motion sending a scattering of pebbles down into the corridor. Unfortunately, they landed on a slumbering naga, the patter of the pebbles disturbing its slumber. And nagas can be very cranky when woken from their slumber.

"Sssssaaaa! Inntruderr… Where are you… sssssss…" The goblin naga was angry, and rose up, the top of its head peeking up over the walls. It saw the figure of the human, hopping over the tops of the walls. This made the naga very angry indeed.

It's tail began to hammer against the stone walls, acting almost like a drum. The sound echoed, the vibration passing along the walls, rousing the others. It was rather similar to a particularly loud and offensive alarm clock. All over the maze, the goblin nagas woke, becoming even more surly and hostile. Something had disturbed them, and whatever it was would have to suffer. There were enough of them to make certain of that.

Willow had just landed on the next wall when she felt it vibrate. Almost like a drumbeat… she could hear dull thuds in time with it. There was also what started as a single angry hissing noise. That single hiss was soon joined by more, and the walls began to shake harder. Frantically, she looked back, seeing an angry goblin-snake peeking over the wall, this one bigger than the one that she'd seen before. And it looked very, very unhappy.

Just as she was starting to wonder how bad that could be, Willow saw more heads peeking over the walls. She could easily see a dozen goblin-snake heads over the walls, and more bumps that might have been the heads of smaller nagas. They all seemed very angry. She had the feeling that the target of their anger was her. Oh dear.

She began jumping again, not towards the castle, but towards the closest edge of another maze. There were far too many nagas going towards the castle, she'd never make it past all of them. But there was something to the left, a mass of walls that looked like smooth gray marble. It almost reminded her of lines of tombstones… And she really doubted that it would be safe and welcoming. Something thumped against the wall, and she saw a furious purple and gray naga glaring at her, sharp teeth glistening damply.

Leaping to the next wall, she made her decision. Better an uncertain risk of the tombstone looking walls than the certain fate of the nagas getting her. Now, she just had to hope that she could make it. That she could dodge and avoid the nagas long enough to reach something that might be a little closer to safety.

She was almost there, only a handful of walls away from the new maze, one that looked to be full of yellowed grass and shadows. She felt it more than seeing, felt an angry presence rise up behind her, heard the hissing and the scrape of scales on stone. Willow leapt forwards, hoping desperately to get away in time.

She felt two lines of flaming pain burn across the back of her calf, even as the cloth tore with a loud sound. It burned, hurting far more than it should, or maybe just as it should. She didn't have any previous experience with snake bites, and even less with the bites of goblin nagas in magic kingdoms. She landed awkwardly, stubbing her toes hard, and lurching as she frantically wheeled her arms for balance. A second head moved, jaws snapping shut a hair's width too short to catch her foot.

She toppled more than jumped down into the new maze, her lungs aching and her leg a mass of burning pain. Wincing, she turned her leg to look at the injury, seeing the twin gashes along her leg, the skin around them already turning an angry red. Guess that answered the question of poison…

Now, what could she do about it? She tore the rest of the pant leg, and began concentrating, trying to use her own magic to pull the poison out. She didn't want to try to touch the magic of this place, uncertain if she could control it, if it would change her, or hurt her. The poison burned, making it hard to concentrate, to focus her attention. Finally, she was certain that she couldn't do anything else for it, and she tried to wrap up the bite with the length of cloth.

She didn't know how many other strange and terrifying creatures she would find here, but it couldn't be good to walk around with her leg bleeding. It felt like an especially bad idea in a place that reminded her of a graveyard at twilight. She kept going, discovering that after a few corridors and turns, the areas started to open up, looking less like a maze, and more like… well, more like a cemetery. Instead of the solid walls, there were rows of low shapes, like uncarved headstones, with occasional mausoleum looking buildings here and there. She shivered, noticing that this place felt colder.

Soon, all of her but her leg felt cold, and she was shivering, her skin in goose bumps as she limped her way along. She couldn't stay here, this place would be the death of her. She had to find her way to the castle, to the center of the Labyrinth. As she kept walking, she noticed that the stones changed, gaining words carved on them, names and dates. Some even had withered flowers and wreaths beside them. It looked all too much like a cemetery.

Her nerves screaming at her, she limped over to one, carefully freeing a spike of wood that held what looked to have been an evergreen wreath. She was now in possession of a flimsy stake. It wasn't much, but it was a little better than nothing. She limped on, not seeing but expecting the gleaming eyes that followed her, peering from the doors of the mausoleums.

In his castle, Jareth smirked as he let go of the crystal showing an image of Willow. "Well, do you think that you'll fare better in a place that reminds you of home? Sunnydale isn't the only place where the graves are not so quiet. Very clever to go over the top of the maze, and it almost kept you safe from the naga… very good indeed. I can use more clever people in my kingdom."

End part 9.

Amy walked on, the scents of cinnamon and pine wrapping around her almost soothingly. The sun was a comforting light, pouring over her, making everything bright and easy to see. The faint whine of insects was a hum in the background, and some of them even buzzed around her. Absently, she wondered why they weren't biting her, weren't inflicting that misery on her as well. Maybe the scent of the leaves was a sort of insect deterrent?

She heard a noise, the jangling of metal bits, and thumping of boot steps, and a sort of dull rattling noise. Amy froze, pressing herself almost into the hedge as she watched a group of goblins marching by. They had dark boots over long feet, and their pale shirts had been stained at patched, some hanging loose over thin bony shapes, others stretched taut over huge round bellies. Tanned hands bearing thick fingers with tough, dirty nails clutched at clubs and daggers, and beady eyes peered out over bulbous noses. Ears stood out like open doors, some rounded, some pointy, others torn and ragged. One goblin even had ears almost like a donkey, with matching yellowed buck teeth. They should have looked almost comical, but somehow, they didn't. They looked dangerous.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she could no longer hear their footsteps. The goblin patrol was gone, she could step away from the hedge and continue trying to reach the castle. Once she was there, everything would be better, and she could go home. Home where she could fix her mistakes. Smiling, Amy prepared to step out of the hedge. Tried to step out.

But the soft evergreen needles were stuck fast to her, like glue. And for the first time, she noticed how they gleamed softly with a coating of sap, the source of the pine scent. She also noticed the tiny insects that had been caught on the needles, almost like flypaper. She pulled, struggling to get out, feeling the needles stuck to her clothing, her skin, her hair… She gasped and whimpered, feeling strands of hair pulled out by the roots, sensations like a band-aide being ripped from her skin repeated dozens, hundreds of times.

Then the first berry burst. Cinnamon scent filled the air, and the juice dripped onto the backs of her fingers, where it itched and burned. She almost screamed, barely managing to hold in the sound of pain. It felt like an eternity before she managed to rip herself free of the hedge, her skin blistering from the berry juice, feeling raw all over from the sticky needles. Her scalp hurt, long strands of hair caught in the hedge as proof that she'd been there. Her eyes stung from the tears.

She didn't like this place anymore, and wanted to go home.

Sniffling, she kept moving, not even paying any attention to the tattered scrap of clothing that had fallen from her hand to the ground. The blisters over the back of her hand distracted her from noticing the lines where the rocks had cut her. She didn't notice how instead of gaping raw cuts, they had become narrow scars that had a faintly green cast to them. Her whole body ached, and the scent of cinnamon had covered her, clinging and making her eyes water even more. Her skin felt raw and painful, every exposed inch either blistered from the berries or feeling abused from the sticky needles.

"I should have known that the hedge wouldn't be safe." She staggered onwards, just thankful that none of the berried had fallen into her shirt or pants, to blister her on even more tender parts of her body. "Nothing is safe here."

Amy staggered onwards, flinching every time her hair brushed over the blisters on the back of her neck or the tops of her shoulders. She was certain that she must look frightful. Eventually, the sticky hedges gave way to place with a huge striped tent that reminded her of a circus. The hedges opened into what looked like a small courtyard. The only options from the courtyard were back into the hedges, or into the tent.

Amy took a deep breath, and went inside. What else could she do?

Darkness washed over her, and she paused, trying to let her eyes adjust. She could smell sawdust, and stale popcorn, and that clinging scent of cinnamon that lingered from those hedge berries. Eventually, her eyes had adjusted as much as they could, and Amy continued into the tent. She could hear other footsteps, the sounds of something thumping against wood, metal clanging against metal somewhere to the left, the scampering of feet, and occasional screams. There was also goblin laughter, most of it higher pitched and almost malicious sounding.

She barely noticed the occasional mirror, or the way that the dark area and her posture, currently bent and limping from the pain, almost resembled a goblin. Didn't think about the way that her skin had become all red, lumpy looking from the hundreds of blisters. She did notice that her hair looked entirely disheveled, almost scraggly since that nasty hedge had pulled some of it out.

Soon, there was a fork in the path, or was that hallway? It was all set up like a tent, so hallway seemed more natural. She went to the left, and entered a section labeled 'Fun Howse' in big, scrawling red letters. A caricatured goblin face peered through the O, beady eyes almost seeming to follow her across the floor.

Inside was a tangled nest of corridors, with wobbling floors, trailing bits of something that brushed over faces and backs, which was pure agony over the blisters. Warped mirrors studded the halls, reflecting distorted images. It was unsettling how strange and goblin-like her reflections in them looked. Shivering, Amy tried to hurry through the tent maze, hoping that it would take her closer to the castle.

End part 10.


	6. parts 11 and 12

Willow kept hearing little noises, creakings and the sound of stone moving over stone. No crickets, no sounds of insects or birds or foraging small animals, just the sort of noises that made it sound like something was trying to get her. It almost reminded her of home.

Of course, home didn't feel quite so cold, unless it was winter. And there were generally insects, the sort of noises that didn't make you feel like the only living thing in the area. This area didn't have the small orange goblin sun, but instead there was a large, red orange moon, with craters and shadows. It seemed to loom over the graveyard, casting a bloody looking light over everything. The shadows were thick, and Willow started to wonder just how big this graveyard really was. Was it actually a maze, or just… Did goblins actually die? Was this really a cemetery?

Something made a popping noise behind her. It was all wrong to be a broken twig. Her heart was pounding again as she turned around, uncertain what she would see.

A large mausoleum that she'd just passed was there, looming ominously, the door open. Hadn't the door been closed? She was certain the door had been closed a few moments ago. She decided after a few moments that it would accomplish nothing to stand here and stare at the door, so she turned around and kept walking.

Willow kept walking, her leg still feeling hot and painful, and everything aching. She wasn't certain if the aches were from the exercise, the poison, or something else entirely. But this was not the place to rest. She didn't know what new danger would be here, but it most likely would be a bad place to go to sleep.

She heard a sort of clacking noise from behind and to the left, like small hard things falling against stone. The noise sent a chill along her spine, and Willow started looking for a bigger weapon than the puny stake. Her eyes lighted on a long staff with a sharp blade at the end, and she grabbed it, hefting it in her hands and trying to prepare herself before it quite dawned on her where it had been resting.

It looked like a Goblin nearly her size, in plates of armor. Reddish moonlight glinted off polished planes, shining like blood on the blade of the weapon. In that moment Willow wondered if she was about to die. Then, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was a statue, something carved of stone. Not a real goblin.

There was a sort of noise behind her, like dry grass crunching. There was also a peculiar scent, like badly cured leather and rotting flesh. Something else made a noise, sort of a squelching sound, and there was a roiling stench of something that she could only call rotted bile. Trembling, Willow turned around, knowing that she wouldn't like what she saw.

There were goblin zombies lurching towards her. Some were nearly skeletal, others were… well, much less bony and more with the rotten flesh. Flesh that had swollen, or sagged in putrid browns and bruised tones, rivulets of semi liquid decay falling gradually downwards over abdomens that had swollen and burst. The stench alone was almost enough to knock her to the ground, and her mind swam with the myriad diseases that they could be carrying.

The first one moved towards her, jaw gaping open with sharp, yellow teeth covered in a sort of greenish slime. There were sort of gurgling and wheezing noises, and one eye rolled in the socket.

"Stay back," Willow tried to use something near reason, but her voice shook. Her hands were shaking as the rotting figures moved closer.

Willow swung the weapon, knocking a skeletal arm free from the bony shoulder, and slicing chunks of decaying flesh from several other goblin zombies. She kept swinging, her heart pounding as she tried not to breathe. There were at least a dozen of them, and they didn't seem to be afraid of her at all. The only good side was that the fallen pieces lay still on the ground, merely making the footing treacherous instead of swarming after her like dismembered undead locusts. The odds might have been workable… for a Slayer. Unfortunately, Willow was a witch.

Jareth released the crystal, shaking his head with a small laugh. "Well, she's not about to go quietly. I hadn't expected her to. But it is a bit of a pity. She would have made a delightful goblin. But they are rather restless in that cemetery."

Dismissing Willow from his concern, he tossed the crystal with her image into the fireplace, the resulting flare frightening several nearby goblins. "Well, no point in watching to the very gory end, is there?"

Of course, even the Goblin King can't pay attention to every little detail of the events of the whole Labyrinth. If he'd watched a bit longer, he would have discovered that he'd dismissed Willow's future a bit prematurely. But he'd turned his attentions to a small boy who'd tried to get his baby sister back. His current efforts to pick his way through the Bog of Eternal Stench were amusing.

In the cemetery, a tall figure rose up behind Willow, sharp fangs looking almost bloody in the moonlight, nails sharp, wild hair swirling around a thin face with gleaming yellow eyes and heavy brows. It was not the face of a goblin, but the face of a vampire. One hand grabbed the glaive, pulling it away from Willow even as the other hand grabbed her, pulling her warm body against him. "This one is mine."

The accompanying slash of the weapon caused enough dismemberment that the goblin zombies gave up, shuffling back. There would be time to feast after the vampire had fed.

Willow felt sharp teeth sink into her shoulder, and screamed, partly from pain, partly from frustration. Had she truly ended up in a kingdom full of goblins only to be killed by a vampire? She felt as if her shoulder was burning as much as her leg, and slipped into herself, not wanting to be aware of it if she died.

So Willow didn't realize that the vampire stopped drinking far sooner than it would take to drain her. She didn't realize that the vampire carried her away, into a mausoleum and down into a series of tunnels. Willow would have been quite amazed to see the vampire carefully tend not only the naga bite but his own bite, carefully stopping the bleeding and bandaging them over.

"You could be much more useful alive than simply another meal, red," The slight smile had nothing of kindness, but a great deal of anticipation.

End part 11.

Amy kept seeing the bent mirrors, casting misshapen reflections of herself. Each time, she flinched, and every flinch pulled at the blisters. Every time the dangling strings and fabric smacked into her flesh, she hissed, trying not to scream from the near constant agony. Her feet were throbbing with pain, and probably had blisters of their own.

She collapsed to the ground, mostly seated as she tried to regain control of her emotions. Nothing had been going right. The whole mess of everything since she'd become human again had been one downward curve after another, spiraling into pain and misery and this. She'd been banished to the Goblin Kingdom, and she had the feeling that it had been one of the Scoobies, one of Willow's so called friends that had sent the pair of them here.

But… where was Willow? Was Willow even still alive? Has she been eaten by some huge monster, or trapped and killed in some evil hedge maze? Had she been dragged off to something horrible and drawn out? She felt herself shudder at the idea, at all the ways that someone could be killed in this place. From sticky hedges to minotaurs to evil sharp rocks in clear water… This was not a safe place.

Part of her mind contemplated various scrying and divinations spells, wondering if she could even try to check on Willow. Did she have the needed materials? Did she know a spell that would even work? But… another part was reluctant. If she didn't look, she could think that clever Willow would surely be alright, that her friend was even now getting closer to the castle. She wouldn't be confronted with an image of horrible death.

Yes, it was better if she didn't know what had happened to Willow. She could let herself imagine the best that way. She could hope that someone got the happy ending. Because it really didn't look like she would be going safely back to Sunnydale.

She heard almost happy shrieks, and looked up in tome to see a small group of goblins standing in front of her, blinking their little dark eyes. One of them even wiggled his ears at her as he smiled, showing yellowed tusks at the bottom corners.

"Daddy… she fell into a Grabbit Bush…" One of the goblins whispered. This one was only half the height of the normal ones, the hair just as messy, but much more bouncy. The small goblin sort of bounced in place, rising on toes and sinking down, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yes, Moggit, she did. That's why I keep telling you not to play over there." Tusks nodded at her, and the group kept going.

One of them even looked back, winking at her suggestively. "I 'ope your day gets better."

It took her a few moments before the alarm faded and everything made sense. They'd mistaken her for a goblin. They thought that she belonged here. The idea almost made her cry. She didn't want to stay here, didn't want to be a goblin.

But she wouldn't have a choice if she didn't get to the castle.

Amy lurched to her feet, staggering a bit. Was it from exhaustion? Were those berries having more of an effect on her than just the blisters? But that didn't matter anymore. She kept moving, passing over more wobbly floors and distorting mirrors. The light in here had to be bad… she almost looked greenish in the mirrors. She wasn't green. She wasn't.

Eventually, the twisting passages came to an intersection. One direction had a sign reading 'Howse of Horrars' and the other direction read 'Out'. Beady goblin eyes in knobby goblin faces were drawn into all the O's, and they seemed to watch her as she tried to decided which way to go. In the end, she decided to go out.

'Out' lead her down a bit of a ramp, and into the middle of a slightly undersized village. Thatched roofs sloped crazily, with bent chimney pipes sticking up, and crazy looking weather vanes. Narrow streets twisted along, cobbled almost evenly. It looked… almost peaceful. A goblin village. Best of all, the Castle rose in a towering intimidating mass right beyond the village walls. A huge set of double gates blocked the view of parts of the castle.

A trio of goblins staggered down a road, weaving across it, singing off-key. The lyrics seemed to be something obscene involving a 'Bess' and a sheriff. From the half filled stein in the hand of one goblin to the reek of something almost but not quite beer that surrounded the three goblins, Amy was left with no doubts that they were entirely drunk.

"Drunken goblins… now that is just…" She shook her head, wondering why she wasn't more surprised.

"A human! I saw a human!" A gruff voice bellowed an alarm from behind Amy.

She spun around, looking around in panic. Any moment they would swarm after her… There was a sudden clattering sound, and a bunch of iron plated goblins mounted on what she could only describe as ostrich lizards jogged into view. They each carried lances striped with red and white.

"There he is, get him!" One of the plated goblins roared, his voice echoing from the helmet.

With an appalling amount of clatter, they charged past Amy, and she caught a glimpse of a figure in red darting away. She just gasped for breath, relieved that she wasn't about to be skewered.

But wait, where had the riders come from? Her quick search found that the huge gates had been opened, and she made her way towards them, threading through the large crowd that had gathered to watch the riders chase after the unlucky human.

Maybe she should do something, try to help the guy? Make an effort to keep him from being skewered? Glancing, she saw what looked like a hay wagon, parked precariously along the twisting street. If she pulled the little wedges that kept the wheels from turning… yes. Carefully, she reached with her magic, pulling the wedges sideways, freeing the wheels to turn. It started down the little hill, gaining in speed as it rumbled towards the square that held the most noise.

Having done that, she turned back to the gates, discovering that they were starting to swing closed. She darted forward, her feet sending shafts of agony, her muscles tired and stinging. But she managed to slip through the gates before they closed.

end part 12.


	7. parts 13 and 14

Considering that the last thing she remembered was being bitten by a vampire while surrounded by Goblin zombies, Willow really hadn't expected to wake up. Unless maybe it was as a vampire, but would that really be the same Willow awareness that it had been before? She winced, her whole body aching far too much for abstract philosophy. A quick check revealed that she was breathing with a firm pulse anyhow. While not a bad thing, it only confused her more. Shouldn't she be dead now?

"Glad to see you waking up, red," The voice was a bit rough and deep, as if it had been infrequently used.

There was a brief flare of light before what looked like a small oil lamp was lit. Willow squinted for a moment, puzzling over the odd long shape and pale color before deciding that she really didn't want to get a good look at the lamp, and it was probably made from bone. The figure was sitting on the other side of a small room, not even as big as her bedroom at home, but larger than the bathroom. Long dark hair fell in a wild tangled mass past his shoulders, which were a little bit wider than Xander's. His eyes were pale with dark almost bruise colored rings, but no longer yellow, and looked sunken over gaunt cheeks. Tattered remnants of something that looked like it had once been dark velvet were falling over slightly less tattered pale linen and leather pants.

"Not that I'm objecting… but… why am I still alive?" Willow sat up very slowly, her head spinning just a bit. Her leg felt… different, and a careful look showed that the bandage had been changed. There was another one on her shoulder where the vampire had bitten her.

He chuckled a bit, thin lips twisting into a smile. "Because alive, you can be useful to me."

Willow sighed, wondering when being kidnapped because she might be 'useful' had become something that didn't surprise her very much. "How? This isn't my home, I don't know the area, I have no useful or influential connections… and what makes you think that I'll cooperate anyhow?"

"If you won't cooperate, I drain you." He leaned back just a bit, his eyes still focused on Willow. "You're trying to get to the Castle, hoping to go home. Back to earth. I know how to get to the Castle. In return, not only will I not kill you, but I want out of this damnable maze. I don't want to have to drink the vile fluid that passes for goblin blood, I don't want to hide in a crypt too short for me to stand up in."

Willow blinked, trying to process everything. He wanted to get out of here, which she could understand entirely. "I… I can't control the Goblin King. Even if you go with me to the Castle, he might not send you back. And… if you were wished away, why didn't you get changed?"

"Apparently, his magic works differently on the flesh of the dead, and he decided not to bother. But either nobody came for me, or they failed, and I've been trapped here for a very long time. I realize that you can't control his decisions, but if I get you there, you ask if I can leave as well." He looked at her, the sharp nails of one hand picking at a loose thread on the tattered velvet.

"That sounds… about as good as anything I can hope for here." Willow sighed, hoping that she wasn't simply trading death here for death later. But… couldn't later be pushed back? "So… I'm Willow. What should I call you?"

"Silas." He paused for a moment, almost as if he was listening for a noise too faint for Willow to detect. "It's time for us to go now."

Willow allowed herself the weakness of accepting the offered hand to her feet. His nails scraped just a bit over her wrist, not quite enough to draw blood, but painful. Cold as ice and painfully firm, his grip was extremely useful in becoming upright and mobile, as he half towed her along, going to the left in the room that became a hallway.

Her words were barely audible as she breathed out "Where are we?"

"There are far more mazes than the ones that are first apparent. There's a network of tunnels that run under this kingdom that are so convoluted… I've sorted out twelve mazes so far, and there are still sections that I haven't explored. However, this is a direct route to the dungeons of the Goblin Castle." The gravelly voice was low, almost confusable with the sound of falling pebbles.

Willow nodded, uncertain if he could see the gesture or not. Maybe it didn't matter. As quickly as he was having them go, there must be something else in the tunnels, something that she didn't want to catch up to them. Probably something scary and carnivorous, considering the way everything else in here had gone. She tried to keep her breath for running. Run away from danger… it felt like home, like Sunnydale in the early years, before she'd become a powerful witch, before Buffy had run away and come back and died and been resurrected… Yes, run away and hope they can't smell you.

Everything hurt again, even more intensely by the time he finally slowed down. They went from running to walking, or staggering in Willow's case. Her lungs felt like they were filled with fire, her sides felt like they'd been twisted from all the running, and every muscles in her body except the one the Naga had bit had a throbbing ache. That one burned almost as bad as when it had first been bitten. She gasped for air as she kept staggering forwards.

The corridor was different now. It wasn't packed dirt curving just over their heads anymore. Now, it was smooth gray stones fitted together with an arch overhead, clearing at least ten feet, and almost six feet wide. Part of Willow's mind wondered what needed the tunnel to be so high, while another part worried that their footsteps might draw it's attention. The rest of her was just glad that they were almost there, almost done with the whole maze and being chased and pursued.

Finally, they came to a solid looking gate, apparently crafted of iron, a tiny window with bars allowing some flickering yellow light into the hallway. She could hear footsteps pass through, apparently a single goblin on a patrol. All they did was make certain their faces were not seen through the window, and they remained undetected.

Silas smiled just a bit, and tried to open the door. It didn't move, and he growled at it, trying to reach something through the tiny window. "The damn thing is locked."

"Let me try," Willow moved closer, placing her hand over the place where she could make out the handle. She reached her magic towards it, feeling the thick woven power of the castle. It made her skin crawl, and she shivered. "Please… I can do this…"

There was a loud click, and the door swung open. Willow's head throbbed, hurting as if she'd just performed something incredibly demanding, some major casting instead of a tiny bit of telekinesis.

"A witch. Convenient," Silas reached out, his hand steadying her a bit more gently. "We're almost there now. All we have to do should be go up those stairs."

"Stairs?" Willow tried not to whimper, feeling as if everything was about to fall off, leaving her a wobbling skeleton.

Silas only chuckled, and they began the long climb upwards.

End part 13.

Amy followed the cobbled road upwards, walking counter clockwise around the base of what was either a large rocky hill or a small stone mountain towards the castle. The road made three complete loops before passing under a vicious looking portcullis, which was raised, and a pair of heavy iron gates, cast with snarling faces, currently partly open.

She passed under it quickly, unsettled by the idea of those long, sharp bits of twisted metal crashing down, pinning her bleeding and twitching body to the cobblestones… She shivered, which pulled at all the blisters again, and moved across the open courtyard. It was lined by low hedges that smelled like juniper, with matching fountains shaped like dragons spraying something dark into rippling pools. She could only hope that it was simply murky water.

Finally, she found the door to the Castle, and tugged at it. It was solid boards of wood, something almost as dark as the iron gates of the outer walls. Frustratingly, it also appeared to be quite firmly stuck… Blisters popped with excruciating agony, and she hissed in pain as the door slowly opened, rusted hinges squealing in protest.

Her hands were moist with a combination of blood and a clearish fluid, and she carefully shook them, glaring at the door. "I guess he doesn't use that one very often."

She tried to enter the castle quietly, knowing the effort was futile after the racket from the hinges. The hallway was of dark stone, banded with grays and black, greens and blue and purple all streaming together, the colors shifting with the light and the angle of view. She made her way through a tall, arched room, the vaulted ceiling vanishing into darkness. Pillars carved like trees linked the dark floor to the darkness above, leaving her feeling very small and bedraggled.

The walls here had been plastered, and then inscribed with images, scenes of people lost in mazes, or fleeing from horrible monsters or troops of the mounted goblins. She almost… yes, the images were moving, tiny figures fleeing hopelessly from pursuers that had caught them ages ago.

But she had reached the Castle at the center of the Labyrinth. Wasn't that victory?

"Does this mean that I win?"

Her whisper echoed impossibly loud in the hall, her whisper coming back at her a hundred times, all louder than her voice could manage. The cacophony of words was loud, painful, and she gasped, the noise echoing like thunder in the darkness, almost driving her to her knees. Clutching her painful hands over hurting ears, she started to stagger rapidly across the hall. But her footsteps were like cannon fire, nearly deafening her. It took forever to creep mouse soft through the hall, and she wouldn't have been surprised if her ears had been bleeding.

She collapsed to the floor, her head pounding, hands agony, gasping for breath, for ease. The stone here was a dull gray again, flat flagstones over the floor. She just huddled there for a few moments, before allowing her eyes to follow the floor over to a staircase that lead up a wall… where it promptly turned sideways. Her eyes got wider as she looked over the expanse of the huge cubical space. Staircases moved at all angles, going up from the floor, out from walls, even down from the ceiling…

Vertigo took hold, and she swayed, rocking slowly on the floor. "No. This room is impossible, nobody could walk on those… it's not real, can't be real…"

A fat goblin in something almost like a suit opened a door and walked along a staircase that emerged from a wall, exiting through an opening near but not quite at the level of the floor. He seemed entirely unaware that he'd just walked on the wall, that gravity should have had him crashing downwards… Or did gravity change here as well?

She wasn't certain how long she sat there, rocking back and forth in an effort to make sense of the impossible room. She'd seen other goblins pass through the space, one even on the ceiling, apparently unaware that his feet were in the direction that should be up. Perhaps she would have sat there ignored and frightened forever.

But then Amy heard the sound of a baby wailing, the sound of a baby that was afraid and didn't know anybody around. Then, another baby joined in, and she heard the sound of goblin laughter. Slowly, she found herself moving towards the crying, confident that the King of the Goblins would be there.

She walked through another arched doorway, looking at the throne room. Goblins scurried over the floor, and a group of unhappy babies were sitting in the corner, some crying while others sucked almost contentedly at bottles. Somehow, the bottles seemed almost worse than the ones that were wailing. The Goblin King was sprawled over a throne of pale stone, his purple cloak spread behind him. A collection of crystal spheres circled to his left, as if an invisible juggler performed for his amusement.

"There you are, Amy. So glad that you could join us." His voice was somehow more terrifying than she'd remembered.

"I…" Her voice squeaked, a most frightened noise. "I want to go home."

Several of the gathered goblins sniggered, their eyes small and dark and cruel, their yellow teeth gleaming in the firelight. "Home…." Harsh whispers rose, goblin voices mocking her. "She thinks she can leave."

Jareth looked over at them, a small frown on his face. "Do shut up."

He turned his attention back to Amy. "I'm afraid that's rather against the rules now. You ate of the fruit of the Goblin Kingdom, gave of your blood to this land. You've bound yourself here with magic far older than the parlor tricks that you practiced back in Sunnydale. No, Amy, this will be your home now. But you don't have to be a goblin. I can enable the magic of this realm to change you, to give you a new shape instead of allowing you to become yet another goblin."

Amy felt like screaming, or maybe crying. The fruit… oh no, the fruit. How had she been so stupid? "I don't want to be a goblin. What… what would I become?"

Jareth's mocking smile seemed to probe at her fears. "That's not very predictable. Something shaped from the inner depths of your spirit, a reflection of your personality and nature. Maybe something monstrous, maybe something harmless. It's really quite a gamble. I'll leave the choice up to you."

End part 14.


	8. parts 15 and 16

Amy closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Bad enough that he seemed to find this whole thing very amusing to begin with, but she would really prefer not showing any additional weakness in front of him. On the one hand, she didn't like the idea of becoming a goblin. Of having big squashy looking feet, a long nose, and big flaps for ears, with beady little eyes. But there were lots of goblins, wouldn't it allow her to be part of a community of some sort?

If she chose to be changed into 'something else' how did she know what it would be? How did she know that she wouldn't end up as a giant rat, or a poisonous hedge? But… what if she ended up something better? Something strong, and influential? A creature so powerful that the goblins wouldn't dare attack her.

She stood a bit straighter, looking not at the Goblin King, but at the shimmering loops of crystals beside him. They sparkled and gleamed, moving in loops and patterns, holding her eyes and attention… Could she ever learn to do something like that? Shaking her head, she looked away from the hypnotic moving crystals, and stared at a blank patch of wall on the other side of him. "Since you say that I can't go home…"

There was a clattering noise, accompanied by a goblin squeaking, like one of the guards had suddenly fallen to the floor. Then, a tall figure came through the doorway, one arm half supporting Willow. Still in her now tattered pajamas, a bandage wrapped around one calf and another on her shoulder. Willow's eyes were dark ringed, matching those of her companion, and they both looked far too pale. It didn't look like she'd had a very easy time of the Labyrinth either.

"Willow…" Amy felt a bit of relief at seeing her friend. There was also confusion, who was that guy with Willow? Why did he feel wrong? Why did he make her think of blood and shadows?

"We would like to go back to earth now," Willow's voice sounded utterly exhausted, but filled with determination.

"Ah, perhaps you missed the part where I explained to Amy that if you've eaten the food of the Goblin Kingdom, you can't leave?" His mocking smile seemed entirely intact.

"I haven't eaten anything since before you kidnapped me here. And as for Silas… I don't think he's eaten anything here either." Willow looked at the Goblin King, wearing what Amy recognized as her resolve face, even as she swayed a bit, leaning into her companion slightly.

"He's been here for quite a while. Not the custom to let people go after a few days." Jareth leaned back, looking almost thoughtful, as if planning how he could torment someone even more.

"I have not eaten the food of the Goblins, not the fruit of your trees. And I have had enough of Goblin hospitality. I would very much like to go back to earth now." The voice of the man was gravelly, harsh and carried a faint accent that Amy couldn't place.

"Amy ate the fruit, so she's become one of my subjects now. Although I have generously given her the choice of becoming a goblin or becoming… something else." There was a casual looking wave in her direction. "As for you, Silas, the only way for you to leave here now would be to bind yourself to Willow. Tie your future to hers, and then I could send the both of you home. Of course, she would have to agree to that…"

Amy could tell by his mocking smile that he really didn't think that Willow would agree to such a thing. From the startled and unhappy expression on the face of the stranger, Silas, he didn't have much hope in her agreement either. Amy sighed, wondering how all of this would unfold. But one thing was clear. "I don't want to be a goblin. Change me into something else."

Jareth chuckled, the sound somehow blending the echoes of footsteps, the gurgling of a stream, and the sound of the wind, and produced a glowing ball of light in his hand. Silver and gold and green and purple swirled around, sending little sparks into the air. "Here then, catch."

Upon seeing the multi colored globe of power that came swooping towards her, Amy reached out a hand even as she cringed. This would change her, make her a part of this place. It felt like fire and ice and wind, raw power tangled into a knot that had just caught on her fingers. For a moment, it hung there, almost like a shimmering bubble before the threads of color untangled, wrapping themselves around her, wild power enclosing her, burrowing into her body. The world was drowned in colors, streaks and sparkles and glowing light.

She tried to scream, but there was no air in her lungs, nothing but the power of the Goblin Kingdom. Her muscles spasmed and twisted, as if they were trying to crawl away from her, from the power that was now clinging to her body. Her bones stretched like taffy, becoming longer, thinner. There was a pressure over her body, although she wasn't certain quite what it was. After an eternity, the power faded, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Her hands looked longer, the bones more delicate, the skin a smooth grayish, unflawed by blisters or freckles, only the few thin lines from the stones in the stream. Long strands of green hair fell to the floor, pooling around and over her new hands. Carefully, she rose to her feet, realizing that she was much taller now. Tall, slender, with gray skin and green hair… "What have I become?"

"Well, it appears that you've become a dryad. A tree spirit, if you've neglected your classical education. I'll just send you on to your tree now…" His smile looked just a fraction warmer, a touch less malicious. "Remember, your tree is your life."

Power swirled around her again, glowing silver sparkles and a sound like fading trumpets. Amy didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry when her vision cleared. She was back in the park like area that held the fruit trees that she'd eaten from. She could hear the stream playing over those razor sharp rocks, the drone of bees. Beside her was a slender gray barked tree. Not a fruit tree, but one with spreading branches for shade.

Placing one hand on its trunk, she knew that this had become home. She felt her eyes prickling as if with tears, but none rolled down her cheeks. Could dryads even cry? "Well, here I am."

She sighed, trying to resign herself to the fact that she would never see Sunnydale again. Surprisingly, she realized that she would miss things of modern convenience and life, like showers and chocolate, far more than the actual place. But this would be her home now, she could already feel the attachment to the tree, her tree. She could see the filaments of power connecting her to the tree, see how they had the same essence. She was bound to this tree. And there was nothing that she could do about it anyhow.

End part 15.

Willow hadn't known what to expect when Amy had asked to become something else. Certainly not the ball of power and light that had wrapped around her, changing her, stretching her taller, remaking her to the green and gray of a tree… A dryad. She closed her eyes and hoped that Amy could do well here, better than Sunnydale had been. She shivered, feeling the presence of Silas beside her.

Jareth had said that Silas could only return if she would allow the vampire to be bound to her. Thus placing the whole burden on her shoulders… allow the one who had helped her to remain trapped here, or bind herself to a killer. Neither option sounded very appealing. But, she'd promised to try to help him get home in return for his help to get to the castle. Shouldn't she keep her word?

She opened her eyes, looking once more to the Goblin King. "I promised that I would try to allow him the ability to go home as well. Send us both back to earth."

Jareth chuckled again. "Not the usual choice at all. Very well, I shall return you both to earth, but there will be a binding between the two of you. None of that love, honor and obey bother, just a simple binding of your essences. If you get hurt, he gets hurt. If he hurts, you hurt. Of course, he won't be able to kill you, that would just… how is it that vampires die? Disintegrating to ashes? You'll be bound to each other, but back on earth. Take his hand it you're willing to go home under those conditions."

Willow looked over to Silas, who's eyes were filled with hope. Holding her hand towards him, she offered a tiny smile. "If you think being bound to me is better than staying here, let's go."

Silas laced his cold finger through hers, a bitter smile on his face. "There are many things that would be better than staying here. I hadn't planned on seeing more of you once I'd returned to earth, but… You aren't a fate worse than exile."

"What a resounding opinion of me." Willow's murmur was low, too soft for mortal ears, but not quite too soft for the ears of Silas.

The castle seemed to spin around her, and power rushed in her ears like wind. She felt herself lifted up, vertigo forcing her to close her eyes. She could still feel threads of herself reaching out, twisting with something cold that felt like blood and time and other. Her essence was threading itself through Silas, and she could feel his essence threading through hers… tendrils of black and crimson and purple reached from him, mingling with her own green and silver and a slightly different feeling black. Threads of 'Willow' now ran through Silas and there were threads of 'Silas' through her own body and pattern.

Spinning filled her awareness, and she fought the disorientation, fought to control her stomach that wanted to heave and wretch. The Goblin magic pushed and tugged, spinning and leaving her senses reeling. Then, she was falling to the ground yet again, her knees feeling like they had to be entirely purple with bruises by now. She could smell the faint ocean scent, exhaust from cars, and recently turned earth. "Why am I not surprised that we're in a cemetery?"

Silas still held her hand in a firm grip, and he stood up, lifting her to her feet as well. "Where are we? This is not my home… so it must be yours."

"Welcome to Sunnydale, California, the year two thousand and two. Home of the Hellmouth… and considering that bond thing, could you try to avoid the Slayer?" Willow looked around, figuring that she should probably be able to recognize the specific cemetery from the hours of patrolling. Yes, Eternal Peace, just a little past the place that had been the high school.

Releasing her hand, Silas made a small bow towards her. "Thank you for getting me back to earth. It isn't quite home, but it will do nicely." He smiled, and left, muttering something about a bath and clean clothing.

Willow gave a small smile, feeling perfect understanding of his desires. A real bath… Clothing that was intact… oh, food. Yes, she was definitely hungry. Fortunately, it wasn't that long before she made it back to her parents' house, unlocking the door and going inside. She could hear the sound of her father snoring upstairs. Rolling her eyes, Willow wondered if they'd even realized that she had been gone.

Deciding that it didn't matter, she went to the kitchen, attending to her empty stomach first. There were strawberries, and she devoured them gleefully. After that, she put together a sandwich, frowning as she ate it. For some reason, it tasted like blood and ashes. So did her apple. But the glass of orange juice tasted right, rich and wonderful, utterly perfect.

After a shower, she made her way to her room, shutting the balcony door with a frown. Had that been open all night? No, hadn't it crashed open before she and Amy had vanished? And there was silver dust over the room, a fine layer over everything. She called it to her hand, forming a shimmering mass that she poured into a glass bottle. It would look harmless, and still be contained. She smiled, and almost danced with glee at the perfect obedience of her power for the simple task. Instead, she found a cork for the bottle, placed it by her terrarium, and went to bed.

It felt good to be home, to be in a place where the power wasn't so thick. Somewhere that she knew the walls wouldn't change once in a while. Although there were still monsters lurking in the distance, hiding in the darkness… Willow finally felt safe, and slept.

End part 16.


	9. parts 17 & 18, the end

When she woke up, Willow sighed, stretching her stiff muscles. Her leg felt… better, and so did her shoulder where Silas had bitten her. The light streaming in from the window seemed very bright, and she winced while she staggered to the shower, trying to remember if she had anywhere to be. Nothing came to mind, so she decided to just take some time to think about everything.

The relationship with Tara was over now. There was nothing that she could do to change the past. Not only that, but… Tara wouldn't like the way she'd been trying to do things. Wouldn't like the near shameless misery and the dabblings with dark power. Tara would have despised Rack on sight… and once upon a time she would have as well. She should have despised him… but the memories seemed almost murky, blurry. Had that been something that Rack had done, or a side effect of whatever he'd done to her? So, she had to move on, without self destructing.

Rack. Ughh. The very thought of him made her skin crawl, well not literally, but it felt like jumbo sized shivers. He was bad, he was trouble, and unfortunately, he was human, so Buffy couldn't slay him. Couldn't sic the Initiative on him like they did with Ethan. Hmmm… Maybe she could think of something later. Until then, she would avoid him.

She would have to try to cut back a bit though, maybe it would be better to let Buffy and Spike kill things, maybe even find ways that Xander and Anya could fight as well? Hmm, maybe a strength spell, or… No. That wouldn't actually be cutting back, would it? As near as she could figure, someone had thought that she and Amy were doing too much magic, or too wild of magic, and had banished them away.

But who would do that? Who could do something like that? Well, Anya still had connections, and Giles had lots of books on all sorts of things. Who knew how much Spike knew about magic and rituals? And then there was always the fact that Dawn was originally intended to open portals between dimensions. There were far too many possibilities.

She wondered just a little what Silas was up to. Probably somewhere hiding from the sunlight, considering the time. Not dead, she would have been able to feel that. She was only worried because her fate had been tied to his, right? Well, that was a good reason to worry if he was healthy, but… did this link that the Goblin King had forged influence her mind or emotions? How much did it affect them beyond the 'I hurt-he hurts' thing?

She sighed, dressing in something comfortable as she made her way to the kitchen. Her cereal tasted normal, which was actually a welcome relief. Everything seemed wonderful until she opened the door, the sunlight so bright that it stung her eyes, making them water. With a small whimper, she grabbed a pair of sunglasses, making her way to the Espresso Pump for a nice hot mocha. After everything last night, she definitely deserved a little caffeine. As she walked, a small corner of her mind was wondering if the sensitivity to the light was the result of her bond with Silas, the fading effects of whatever the hell Rack had done to her, or the trip to the Goblin Kingdom and back.

Wrapping her cold hands around her cup, she sat down with a sigh. If it didn't go away, it would be Silas. If it did fade, then it would be aftereffects of something. More than that was clearly not the issue. Had anyone noticed that she was gone? Would anyone have cared if they did?

"Wills! Buddy, where have you been? We were looking for you and Amy… you didn't show up for the study thing." Xander had worry and joy and questions all tangled in his voice. He plopped himself down in the chair next to her, close, but not enough to make her spill the hot drink on herself. "Mocha?"

"I was unavoidable absented from the study session. So was Amy. Considering everything, I deserve this mocha," Willow glanced at him, trying to figure out if he knew anything about her absence.

"I think… that must explain why Buffy, Giles, and Spike were so angry at Dawn. What happened? Car problems?" Xander shook his head, hair flopping over his face.

"No… more like an unexpected side trip. I have to think of a suitable way to thank Dawn for that then…" Willow sipped at the mocha for a moment before swallowing it down quickly. "I suppose I should go let Giles know that I'm back?"

It wasn't until she was walking down the street that Xander asked the question. "Back from where?"

She made a little gesture with her hand, as if waving an imprecise direction. "Oh, a bit to the left and creepy of the Twilight Zone. The Goblin Kingdom, a tangled mess of mazes that he calls his Labyrinth. Couldn't go to research, I was trying to escape the other dimensional maze alive."

"Labyrinth? Anything like that movie with the puppets and David Bowie?" Xander sounded like he was trying to make sense of everything.

"Sort of. But he doesn't look like David Bowie, and the goblins aren't harmless Henson puppets. And there are dangerous bitey things…" Willow shivered, remembering the tangled mazes, the horrible fear that she'd be trapped there forever.

They walked in silence as Xander tried to think over her words. Willow could tell that he was trying to think of something comforting, and failing. They'd actually reached Giles place when he asked "Where's Amy?"

The door was flung open, and Buffy was there, looking worried and nervous. "Willow… you're alive. And… umm, where is Amy?"

Willow shook her head, walking towards the soothing darkness of indoors. Then the strangest thing happened – at the doorway, she had the oddest feeling like she was squeezing though something like jello, an almost barrier. She shivered again as she realized that it was the threshold. "Amy didn't come back from the maze. She was trapped in the land of the Goblins. We can't rescue her either."

The next thing Willow knew, she was being hugged. Buffy and Xander hugged first, leaving her nearly breathless. Then Giles hugged her looking incredibly relieved. The part that was really weird was that Spike even gave her a quick hug, releasing her and stepping back so quickly that it almost seemed like he'd been burned when he realized what he'd done.

"Right… good to see that you got out, Red. Thought the Goblins had you," Spike sounded uneasy, and Willow suspected that it was from far more than the idea that he'd just willingly hugged a mortal.

"I got to come home, although it was a close thing. Amy had eaten the Goblin Fruit, and couldn't leave. She's not human anymore, and can't leave the Goblin Kingdom," Willow sat in the welcome shade, sighing with pleasure at the idea that nothing here would try to grab her or bite, not even Spike. "The nagas almost got me, and then there were… uggh." She broke off with a shudder as she remembered the Goblin Zombies.

"Did you say nagas? Can you describe them to me please?" Giles looked like he'd entered research mode, with a side helping of worry.

"Big, scary looking snakes with gobliny heads? Umm… purple and gray with a diamondback pattern. Maybe I should just do an illusion so you can see what I mean…" Willow sighed, her hand rubbing over her calf, where the bite was still aching.

"While I normally would suggest not… I think for this it might be a good idea." Giles had picked up a book, and was flipping through, searching for something.

Willow sighed, and closed her eyes, shaping the image of one of the nagas. She remembered the sheen of the scales, the dark beady eyes, the glistening fangs… The way its head swayed from side to side as it moved. Hearing gasps from the room, she opened her eyes, seeing her illusion in the middle of Giles' floor, a little translucent but accurate. "Goblin snakes. Very unfriendly."

"Wills… you didn't have to make it bigger for the details. Really." Buffy looked rather unsettled by the image.

"No, that's life sized," She leaned back in her seat, feeling oddly tired. Was she just that unused to working magic the right way? Was she still tired from her ordeal?

The door opened, and Dawn came inside, sounding cheerful. "… and I need to have someone help me go over the history for the test on Friday."

The naga illusion lunged at her, a loud voice hissing 'Intruder!' around wicked fangs. Dawn screamed, trying to leap away, her shoulders connecting to the door with a thud. Her eyes were wide with fright, and her hands were scratching against the door as the naga illusion dissolved into smoke.

"Thanks for the vacation, Dawnie." Willow's voice was cold. "You almost got me killed, and Amy's gone now. And here's the kicker… the whole trip was deliberate. Not an accident from being a little over the top, not a badly placed pole in the way… No, you had to deliberately want Amy and me gone forever. Good to know how you really feel. The illusion wasn't real, and it couldn't hurt you. Maybe I should send you to try the real ones?"

"That's… you couldn't do that!" Dawn's voice sounded more like denial than confidence.

Willow allowed herself a small smile. "It's not the person making the wish that causes their victim to leave. You're right, I couldn't send you away, but he could take you. Send you to see the nagas, or the endless corridors that stretch out as you try to walk through them… But I won't."

She stood up, running her hand through her hair with a sigh. "It's good to know that some of you were worried. But I'm feeling really tired all of a sudden, so I'll just go home and sleep."

Willow wondered why she felt so tired, before allowing her mind to envision Dawn trapped in the Labyrinth, lost, uncertain where to go, trying to flee from horrible monsters. The image was almost amusing, but made her feel a little guilty. Then, she substituted the image of Rack… Yes, that was better. And hey, no guilt. Best of all, he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else again. She allowed herself to dwell on that fantasy for a while, wondering if it would be right of her to take that chance, to pass a sentence like that on him.

But it couldn't hurt to think about it, right?

End part 17.

Willow found herself feeling not quite in place anymore. As if she moved a beat behind, or maybe to the left of the world. She still felt tired if she spent much time in the day near Buffy, but she could stay up all night researching, or studying. The light sensitivity hadn't faded in the three days that she'd been back, and she'd found that she could see in the dark.

Dawn was furious and not speaking to her, being 'horribly upset and wigged' over the naga illusion. Considering that she'd only seen them because Dawn wished her away, she couldn't quite bring herself to be upset over that. And her leg didn't ache anymore where the naga bite had been, with only a pair of purple lines to show that she'd been injured. Buffy had grounded Dawn for the Wish, especially since she seemed to interpret 'Amy was trapped' as pretty much the same as Amy being dead.

Cutting back on magic had left her feeling oddly unsettled, with extra time on her hands. She had wondered what she could do, before deciding to spend a little more time learning purely physical means of protection, and had started looking for a self defense class, or maybe fencing lessons. Something that she could do in the day, away from Buffy.

Giles had been very worried about the nagas, muttering about 'considerable intelligence' and 'reports of venom being quite poisonous, although if they were goblin Nagas that could change a few things…' Those thoughts would come down to Giles closing his book with a thump while making this sort of clucking noise and rubbing at his temple. She still hadn't told him that one had bitten her, although she wasn't quite certain why she'd concealed that.

Xander was talking to her again, trying to figure out how to help her deal with everything. That almost made it worth the pain and terror. Her friend was there again, spending time with her instead of just Anya, not that she tried to keep Xander away from his fiancé. She hadn't told him anything about Silas yet, uncertain how he'd react. Xander had a well known dislike of vampires, ever since Jesse…

And somehow, that renewed friendship had resulted in her, Xander and Anya walking towards the ice cream parlor while Buffy and Spike patrolled. She was listening to them talk about their upcoming wedding plans, and smiling, laughing occasionally at some of the descriptions.

Suddenly, Xander tapped her elbow, leaning towards her with a worried expression. "I think we're being followed."

Willow looked around, her eyes falling on Silas, who was meandering down the street, looking much better in clean, intact clothing. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a gray long sleeved shirt, and soft looking shoes that were some sort of soft leather. He looked much better, especially with his hair combed out and falling past his shoulders in soft waves. "Good evening, Silas."

"Willow. Who are you with?" He smiled slightly, nodding politely at the group of them.

"This is my friend Xander, and his fiancé Anya." She hoped that he'd leave them alone.

Anya was frowning at him, as if trying to place him. "Weren't you in Orsova? Mid fifteen hundreds? There was a wish about an unfaithful lover and her cheating heart being ripped out and crushed… or was that the one about wanting someone to melt slowly?"

Xander leaned over, his eyes worried as he whispered to her. "Anya, sweetie, I know a lot of people sort of remind you of someone, but…"

"Actually, yes. You melted the woman that my sire was trying to court. But you seem to have changed a bit since then, Anyanka." Silas had an amused smile. Turning to Willow, he shook his head. "Such interesting people that you spend your time with."

Willow gave a small smile and a shrug. "My life is too interesting?"

Silas just laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Unfortunately, I fear you are correct. Things shall not be boring here, my Willow. Good evening, and be careful."

Xander was frowning, staring at the place where Silas had just did that vanishing thing that vampires seemed so good at. "Umm… Wills? I'm getting the feeling that you left a few things out of your story?"

"Umm… the short version is that Silas sort of saved me from the goblin zombies and offered to take me to the castle so I could go home if I'd take him with me. He did, I did, neither of us is stuck there now, unlike poor Amy." Willow hoped that she could stave off the inevitable lecture and panic. Especially if she told the slightly gentled version of events. "And there's the ice cream place."

"Your life is definitely too interesting." Anya smiled, before turning her attention to the menu.

"Is he going to hurt you, Wills?" Xander's question was full of worry, lacking the outrage that Willow had been fearing.

"He won't injure me. I'm hoping he won't do anything else to hurt me either. I don't think he's entirely a bad guy, considering." Willow tried to think positively, to hide any shred of doubt from Xander. She was also really enjoying this milk shake, the peach flavor just perfect… When had she started liking peach milk shakes anyhow?

"Let's join that hope, as someone that could get killed if it's wrong." Xander sighed, licking at his cone.

Perhaps that was as close to a guarantee as they would get for Sunnydale. She was here, and as safe as anyone got in Sunnydale, and healthy. Her leg was better, her friendship with Xander was back, and she was getting to know Anya better. Silas was here, and apparently staying out of trouble.

Actually, Silas was walking off licking a chocolate ice cream cone. Since when did vampires like ice cream? Was he being influenced by those little willowy bits? How much had they both been changed by everything? Willow had the suspicion that Silas wasn't staying in one of the cemeteries. He'd been in one for far too long. This was a new start for him… maybe for both of them, in a way. Maybe this was as close as the Hellmouth came to 'and so they are to this very day'. No sappy couple, but they both managed to escape the terrible danger and go home, hopefully wiser for the experience.

End part 18.

End Darkened Faerie Tale.


End file.
